


re: turning up the pressure

by Ashling



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, In-universe nonfiction documentation, Love story that never uses the word love, a fic you've always wanted an excuse to write, gangster family, ominous references to Pasts, rogue cops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: Lan: Can you let me tell my damn story, please?Connelly: Who’s stopping you?Lan: You just keep looking at me, like—Connelly: Like what?  [pause] Oh, get on with it. Jesus.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6
Collections: Return to the Iron Triangle - January 2020





	re: turning up the pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_rck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/gifts).



Connelly: Jesus, would you look at the place.

Lan: The food was worth it, not to mention the company. Here, I’ll wash and you dry.

Connelly: Fuck it, just go to bed. I’ll put the food in the fridge and pile everything in the sink for tomorrow morning.

Lan: You’ll get flies.

Connelly: Go on. I’m not the one with the red eye.

Lan: I’ll sleep on the plane. I’m a good traveler. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, anyways.

Connelly: Oh, shit. Who was it?

Lan: What?

Connelly: It was Shane, wasn’t it? It always is. Bollix.

Lan: No, they’ve all been nice. Shane was nice.

Connelly: Was he really? 

Lan: No, but he wasn’t mean and he was funny, which is close enough. Look, they’ve been great. As welcoming as I could ask for, just a random foreigner showing up for someone else’s family holidays like some kind of creep cause I can’t show my face in my own place for fear of getting my head blown off and maybe my mother’s too for good measure. Eating everything in sight and putting my foot in it every chance I get but just sad enough that they can’t bring themselves to get rid of me even though they’d probably like to.

Connelly: Come on, it’s not like that. You’re with me. Besides, it’s not like they’re saints themselves.

Lan: Well, I don’t have any complaints about your family. Is what I’m saying.

Connelly: So then what are we talking about?

Lan: Keep drying, or we’ll be here all night. [pause] Something happened, earlier. When Mary took me to the New Year’s party. Don’t get all worked up, it’s nothing bad. It’s nothing bad.

Connelly: You look like you’re gonna pass out.

Lan: I’m just tired. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately. I’ll sleep on the plane.

Connelly: You’re working too hard.

Lan: I’m literally on a holiday, and so are you. If anything, it’s dissipation. 

Connelly: You don’t seem to be enjoying the holiday much.

Lan: You mean I look like shit.

Connelly: No.

Lan: I know I do, though. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.

Connelly: I knew I should’ve gone.

Lan: Literally the worst thing on Earth for a migraine is a big New Year’s Eve party. You didn’t need to go. It all worked out. [pause] Can you let me tell my damn story, please?

Connelly: Who’s stopping you?

Lan: You just keep looking at me, like—

Connelly: Like what? [pause] Oh, get on with it. Jesus.

Lan: Okay. So. I’m sitting on a couch, holding a beer, because I chickened out of telling Mary I’m sober. I haven’t opened it. It’s kind of cold in there, because it got really crowded and sweaty and people were dancing, so somebody opened a window. I don’t know where Mary went, but that’s fine, ‘cause I think people are generally drunk enough that they aren’t paying attention to anyone but themselves and whoever they’re horny for, and that’s not me, so I can get away with just sitting here holding an unopened beer. And then I can hear some guys getting loud, over by the kitchen, like, really loud, the flavor of loud that means someone is actually annoyed, verging on angry, and they’re probably gonna do something about it. So I look over, and it’s Jack, it’s Jack and this really tall guy, this fuckin’ colossal asshole, and they’re arguing, and the accents are thick and I’m tired but it seems to be about local politics, or maybe family history, or maybe both, or maybe sports, because I don’t know about any of those things and I’m not following the argument. But they’re pissed twice over. And I’m starting to get pretty fucking concerned, because I’m looking over there and I don’t see any of your other cousins, and I don’t see anyone of Jack’s friends, and there’s definitely a couple of guys who have sidled up next to the tall guy, and they look like they’d be pretty unbothered by the moral implications of a three on one shitfest. And I immediately get annoyed at myself, like, why did I think I could start wearing earrings again? Just ‘cause I’m in Ireland? There’s assholes everywhere, on every continent. I’m mad cause I’m wearing earrings and I’m mad cause my shoes are no good for this, and then out of nowhere I see Mary just swooping in and like, flirting vaguely into the atmosphere and carrying off Jack by the arm, and then she barrels towards me and grabs me with her other hand and says something about this party being really boring and someplace else being better, and then we’re out the door. Which is fine with me. Look, I swear there’s a point to all this.

Connelly: Is there, though?

Lan: There is. Before we get to the next house party, Mary asks me to look at her to see if there’s any stains on her dress or anything. I tell her that she looks great, of course, partly because it’s true and partly because I think she’s gearing herself up to meet somebody at the party—

Connelly: Danny. 

Lan: Brown hair? Kind of short? Smokes a lot?

Connelly: That’s the one. She’s been after him for ages.

Lan: Seems all right.

Connelly: He’s fine for a fling and nothing more. If he ever gives in.

Lan: Brutal.

Connelly: Are you telling me you could see the two of them going steady?

Lan: Going steady. You sound so old. Did you have a hard time in Nam, grandma? Did you see Frank Sinatra in concert?

Connelly: No, but I sucked Marlon Brando’s dick, which is close enough to both those things. Please tell me there’s a reason we’re not both in bed right now.

Lan: I look Mary over and I tell her she looks great, and she looks me over and says, “What happened to your earrings?” And I say, “I took them off.” And she says, “Why?” And I just can’t tell her why. Like, I know why I did it. I took off my earrings because Jack was about to get seven shades of shit kicked out of him, and so was I. Because if you give a bunch of guys a chance to fight a girl, they probably won’t do it, but it was happening too fast and too far away for me to be anything but reinforcements. And when a bunch of guys are already in a fight and a girl comes in out of the blue and breaks one of their arms, then it’s pretty much open season; a broken arm is a broken arm. They weren’t drunk enough to be incompetent, and I’m out of practice. I’ve gotten out of practice. So I was getting myself all ready to have a fight, and I took out my earrings, but when Mary asked me about it, I couldn’t explain. I don’t really like Jack. He’s not bad, I just don’t get along with him. I’d rather talk to his mom or his dad or go wash the dishes than get caught in small talk with him at a function, right? But if he gets beaten like a rented mule, then it gets back to your grandma, and that’ll upset her, and that’ll upset you. And even without your grandma in the mix, I mean, I bet you don’t really like Jack either, but it wouldn’t thrill you to hear about it. He’s your family. And that matters. I wasn’t getting ready to bleed all over my one nice cocktail dress for Jack’s sake, I was doing it ‘cause he’s yours. And if he’s yours then I’m gonna protect him and I’m gonna do it without thinking and the only part of me that’s annoyed is the part of me that wishes I’d worn better shoes and no earrings. You know? But I couldn’t tell her that. And. [pause] I’m still kind of disappointed that the fight didn’t happen, ‘cause I’d probably lose, but then I’d have some kind of proof to give you. Instead of just sitting in the kitchen talking about earrings. I’d have something to show. You know it’s all I’m good for, even though I’m out of practice, it’s still...You’ve been good to me. I mean, your whole family’s been good to me, everyone’s been good to me, something about receiving serious death threats really engenders sympathy, but. You, specifically. You’ve been really good to me. And it’d be easier to show you a broken nose than to say thank you. Cause thank you doesn’t do it. It’s never gonna be enough. I’m never—

[unidentifiable sounds]

[pause]

Lan: Yeah?

Connelly: Yeah.

[pause]

Connelly: We can figure it out tomorrow. All of it, just...

Lan: Tomorrow’s good. I could use some sleep. [pause] The bed in the spare room, it’s a double bed.

Connelly: Yeah?

Lan: Yeah.

Connelly: Then let’s go.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:05 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Tell me what you think.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:05 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

That’s hot and all, but I doubt we can get Helen Lan to inform on the family just because she’s in lesbians with Siobhan. 

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:05 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

You’re so stupid it hurts my head sometimes, you know that? You’re looking at the wrong girl to flip.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:07 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

It’s possible you’re the devil.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:07 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Finally. 

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:07 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

They’re not homophobic enough for it, though. Separating her from them by outing her wouldn’t work, and threatening to out her will probably just get her angry.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:08 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

For fuck’s sake, look at the bigger picture. Helen is jumpy as hell. Three days earlier, she talks to Siobhan about going to a therapist. I’d wager that even in her little story, Jack wasn’t in any danger. She was just drunk and looking for a fight. “It’s all I’m good for.” Right? And even though they caught the guy last week, no more death threats, she still stayed over as long as she could. She’s in no hurry to get back to her real life, probably because she’s fucked in the head. And Siobhan is trying to get her to sleep, trying to be diplomatic. That’s not like her. She’s concerned. It would be so easy to turn that into protectiveness. 

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:09 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

Okay, I take it back. You’re definitely the devil.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:09 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Thank you. If she starts getting more death threats, the odds are good that Helen will fold like a wet paper bag and come running back to Siobhan. Especially if they’re girlfriends now, which seems likely. And then she really will need Siobhan’s protection, because we can finally make use of the information from the bugs in the kitchen and the living room and the master bedroom. Unstable foreigner, sudden leaks of information, it wouldn’t take a genius. They’ll be livid. And if Siobhan even suspects the kinds of things they did to Chris for lesser sins, she’ll run right into our arms, hand in hand with Helen.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:10 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

So we’re going to add death threats to the list of our crimes?

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:10 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

In for a penny. You’re the one who set up the bugs.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:10 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

True enough.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:13 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Are you in?

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:13 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

Of course I am.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:13 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Aww.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:13 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

Oh, don’t. I’m so stupid, I can tell that I’m stupid and yet I keep on being stupid. It hurts MY head sometimes.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:15 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

We’ll get them.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:15 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

Or we’ll get thrown in prison, or killed. But what’s the difference?

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:15 AM Jenny McCullough <jmccullough@--------------.---> wrote:

Rest up, Damien. Big day tomorrow.

On Mon, Jan 7, 2020 at 1:15 AM Damien Coonan <dcoonan@--------------.---> wrote:

Yes, ma’am.


End file.
